


pie x s^2

by rlnerdgirl



Series: The Domestic Life of Spies [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Pre-Slash, spy AU, the domestic life of spies, the one where Derek and Stiles are retired spies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rlnerdgirl/pseuds/rlnerdgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Former CIA spook Stiles Stilinski is weathering early retirement in the familiar rustic backdrop of the Sierra Nevadas. What he's not expecting is for his lakeside neighbor to be renown Special Agent Derek Hale.</p><p>The one in which Stiles' dog likes to run away and wander around Derek's property, and Stiles has to go fetch him... again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pie x s^2

The third time Stiles goes to the front door, whistles for the Sheriff for dinner, shakes the bowl and rattles around the kibble, and gets absolutely no response, he makes a pie. Doubt it, it means it takes an hour and a half to finally get in his car to drive a quarter way around the lake to his neighbor’s house, which the Sheriff enjoys running around, but it’s worth it, because this is the third time this has happened and Stiles isn’t going to show up empty handed when, for the third time, he has to collect his dog from the extremely hot and extremely surly man who lives in said house.

 

Ringing the doorbell, Sheriff at his side, because all the useless mutt does is run around the house like it’s his, which it so clearly isn’t, Stiles waits, expecting to once again get a thick furrowed brow and irritated scowl. What he doesn’t expect is a rifle in the face.

 

“Woah. Woah. Woah.” Stiles’ stumbles back a few steps, nearly looses the pie, and gets distracted from running away by trying to save it. “Don’t shoot!”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

Stiles blinks, owlishly, slowly righting himself where he’d contorted to save the pie from a dismal death on the man’s porch, where the only belly it would have seen would be that of the Sheriff. “Um… Collecting my dog?” He says, not sure why it comes out like a question. “And bringing you pie?” Another question, as he hands out said pie.

 

Hot Surly Mountain Man’s intense gaze doesn’t even flicker toward the pie. “Why the _fuck_ is a spook giving me pie?”

 

It takes a lot for Stiles’ jaw not to drop. A hesitant sound croaks out of him for a long second before he swallows and asks. “Spook?”

 

A pointed glare is his response.

 

Stiles sighs, relaxes his shoulders, retracts the pie so his arms don’t fall off. “I’m not a spook,” he heaves, rolling his eyes.

 

More pointed glaring.

 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m not a spook!”

 

The rifle cocks.

 

Despite how terrifying that is, Stiles takes the time to note the positive, which is that there wasn’t actually a bullet in the chamber until this moment. “Any _more_ ,” Stiles continues. “I’m not a spook any _more_.”

 

Suddenly the rifle is down and the glare is not nearly as intense. In fact, it’s not even a glare anymore it’s more… Well, it’s not flattering. The guy is amused; like Stiles is some little kid who’s managed to utterly fail at something simple, like putting on socks.

 

Unfortunately, Stiles knows exactly what he’s thinking. “Shut up. I could keep my mouth shut if I wanted to, but it seemed a little silly to keep up the pretense, which I was trying to do out of politeness, but, whatever. Hm, _former Special Agent Derek Hale_ ,” he goads trenchantly, unable to help the smile tugging at his lips. It only lasts a second, because the rifle is back, cocked and in his face. He rolls his eyes. “Oh my _God_. You are the touchiest person on the face of the planet.”

 

“How do you know who I am?” Mountain Man Derek demands. His voice is rough, not like before, which was the ‘haven’t spoken to people because I’m a hermit’ rough, but more of a ‘I’m pissed and about to shoot you and my panties are in a twist’ kind of rough.

 

Stiles lets out a soft _puh_ of exasperation before shoving the pie forward into Derek’s chest, hard enough that the man actually takes a hand away from the rifle to grab at it, and then Stiles lets go, turns around, and walks away, the Sheriff at his heals. “I’m a _spook_ , remember?” As he holds open the gate for the Sheriff, he pauses to turn around. “The pie is a thank you for not getting pissy and shooting my dog, and I kind of expect the good graces to be kept up, because I don’t think he’s going to stay put anytime soon.”


End file.
